Process over product in the heart of the world.
Ceremony of Life....
I’m back from guest facilitating the Ceremony Of Life retreat in Colombia an annual exploration led by Mariana Rittenhouse rooted in tea ceremony, Earth based reverence, ritual, and creative practice.
I was out of my comfort zone in all the best ways: Recalling my deeply rusty Spanish. Beginning the trip in an open treehouse. Bugs, birds, monkeys, and who knows what else. The general blend of awe and vulnerability that comes with sleeping in a jungle. A healthy reminder that while I’m not quite a city kid by nurture, I definitely would not survive outside left to my own devices. Bumpy climbs zipping up a zig zag mountain road on the back of a motorbike, trying my best to remain calm and remember to breathe, all the while my thighs clenching the drivers hips like a vice grip, doing everything in my power to not vocally give away my distress. Reminding myself he does this 50 times a day, and really my fear is what’s elevating the danger here so chill the fuck out and don’t fight the curves. Thankfully, there are some understandings people find without language, and he very graciously let me off early on his own accord, and was probably also tired of having his pelvis crushed.
And this was all before the retreat started.
I was also in my comfort zone in all the best ways: Thankful to be in ceremony again with a sister I met in an apprenticeship so many years ago. Our paths swirling back together again after a time of taking us apart. Feeling the rungs of the spiral, that bring you to the same place, but different, deeper, easier, and more yourselves. Witnessing how powerfully the roots of her practice have grown, and being witnessed, trusted, and believed in in return. Being in circle with a group of people who somehow grow, after one short week, into faces that will be etched in your mind and heart for the rest of your days. Open heart connection. Time out of time. Constantly barefoot, deliciously hot, and kissing the sea every morning to start the day.
I feel like I lived about 6 months in the month since I last wrote you. So where do I really begin… I feel a bit like this is akin to serving a stew first day. All the ingredients are there, and it’s edible, but it’s going to be so much better tomorrow when all the flavors of experience have had time to merge, develop, and unify.
And this possibly premature share is in part what the painting journey I offered was about - Process over Product.
What does creative practice look (and feel) like when we create for the sake of creating, tuning ourselves as a instrument FOR creative energy (Spirit….Love), rather than trying to be the conductor of it. What happens when we allow ourselves to create without judgement? Immediate value assessment… ego? And I say here, as I said there - this is not necessarily about craft, which unequivocally has it’s place. It’s where a lot of the fluency of our unique creative language can emerge. And sometimes we can get so caught in the math of the music we forget how to let ourselves simply dance to it. How to hear what it’s asking of us, that can only be heard and responded to honestly in the now. This is the essence of what we explored.
And as you might have suspected... This wasn’t about paint.
This is a way of life. To be truly creative. To express what can only be expressed through you, no matter the medium. To give it enough breathing room to get to know it without critique of what it should be before you get to meet it as it IS. To let go. Listen. And respond. Simple, though not always easy. This is how I talk with the ineffable, the unseen. Call it Love, call it Spirit, call it Consciousness, call it Divine. And it’s not that I’ve been graced with some magical ability. If anything, the grace is in not entirely forgetting that it’s possible, and how. That along with the practice of trusting it. Well trusting myself to receive it clearly - and it is indeed a practice in a society that trains us to forget and doubt. Lucky for us, life seems to be committed to our full remembering. You have this in you too, right now, whether you can actively see it, feel it, trust it, recognize it in this moment or not. Because that’s just the kind of animal we are.
Helping people reconnect to their own channel and instrument has been one of the foundations of my work for a long while. However, there’s something about a concentrated container that reflects back what’s there with such precision. I feel it in my body with a new clarity. In a practice that goes beyond making beautiful objects, and into creating a beautiful life. A life that is, and can only be uniquely, and completely yours. Releasing the ever elusive drive to find THE way, into finding something so much more interesting and fulfilling - your way.
This was so brilliantly mirrored by the highly diverse ecosystem of the land, and by the Kogi people - your way supports my way, and vice versa. When we each play our role, every being thrives.
The Kogi.
Being on the sacred lands that they tend, can only be described as some cellular shift transmitted by and imparting simplicity, honor, and truth. Our guide arrived to greet our translators and we waited for who would give us the welcome speech - a man with smooth skin and calm face, wearing what appeared to be the standard white Kogi dress: pants, tunic, mochila … and a fresh black Yankees cap. New York really makes her mark everywhere. It felt like a wink, as over my trip, I also had my 9 year anniversary of being in this city that very quickly became my home.
It feels a little strange and inappropriate to commit the experience into writing, or to try to distill it, at least for now. But what I will say is - being with people who escaped colonization made louder the question of what is conditioned in my mind (maybe probably… EVERYTHING). I found myself wanting to observe them without objectifying them. Respect without deifying. And most importantly, I found that when you meet eyes and exchange a smile with a little girl anywhere every imaginable difference immediately falls away.
One of the women on the retreat (and Colombiana) really brought forward the duality of the place. The danger and trauma that she and the people there have been through. The reputation of the place that she’s met with everywhere else she goes. And the grief so many of us feel of our own old ways being obscured if not totally lost, even while feeling grateful for the convenience and “advancements” of our current time and culture.
So it feels important to name that while I did very much have a gentle and frankly, magical time there. I understand it’s not even close to the full picture.
And.
I sat for tea in silence multiple times a day. Gave offerings to the elements. Learned. Met with people who collectively honor what they call Aluna - the Great Mother. Remembered that New York City is nature too. Got to share practices that mean so so much to me. Nibbled a fruit I was surprised to learn was cacao. Looked with fresh eyes and held by new arms. Caught and sipped freshly wrung out sugar cane juice in a small carved bowl and passed it hand to hand like communion you’re allowed to giggle though.
And I got my first hypnotic taste of why Colombia is called “The Heart Of The World”
Your Fellow Wanderer,
Allison
Want to reach out? I'd love to hear from you. Reply to this email or send separately at allison@allisonstrickland.co
Want to work together? Books will re-open soon for custom meditation paintings Books currently open for one on ones.
What a beautiful image at the top, Allison! And I loved the idea of valuing "process over product."
Beautiful read!